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CAPTAIN DAN
05/25/2009
There are so many things I would like to write about this week. I actually have already written an essay on the politics of abortion – but that can wait.
I could write about the Dick Cheney – Newt Gingrich vaudeville act, but they are already getting too much attention for their buffoonery, personality disorders, and political machinations.
Instead, I want to write about Dan.
Three summers ago, my husband and I met Dan. We were going to Seattle to visit our two sons and their wives, and because we had received a nice bonus in June from my husband's company, we decided to spend some of it on a sail around Puget Sound.
My husband began a search on the internet for a sailboat and captain who might accommodate us and that is when we found Captain Dan. Dan had a 40 foot sailboat that he kept in Seattle, where he lived in the summer and gave sailing lessons. A captain with Delta Airlines, he flew as little as possible, he said, just enough to help him pay for his boat. He lived in Park City, Utah in the winter where he was also a ski instructor.
Dan had gone to the Naval Academy and flown jets for a while, but his real love was sailing, something his dad, a judge in New York, had introduced him to when he was only two years old. Because of the love they shared for sailing, and in honor of his father who had died, Dan had named his boat "Papa," violating the tradition of giving boats female names.
Dan said he would be happy to offer us an evening aboard his sailboat, suggesting we bring some libations and any food we wanted to share. He would have some food on board as well. He couldn't take us until about 5 p.m., however, as during the day he was taking disabled kids out for the day on the boat. Since summers in Seattle mean daylight until about 10 p.m., this worked out fine.
It's hard to describe Dan, as he was larger than life. He warmed to us immediately and made us feel like we were family. Even though there was no wind for the first two hours, Dan's stories and good nature made it great fun. In fact, it was glorious – the view, the wine, the food, the jokes, the sea air – and Dan, who was one of the most unusual, adventurous and interesting people I have ever met. When I asked him how he developed his love of sailing, he replied "Me mother was a mermaid, me father was King Neptune." Then he told us that was an old saying of navy men.
I guess if you've flown navy jets you have to be a fairly calm person, slow to panic or shy away from danger, but always cognizant of safety, and Dan was. Though he encouraged it, he didn't insist we wear life vests because we all said we were good swimmers, but put his on immediately because, as he told us "If you fall in the water, I know how to maneuver the boat to get you, but if I fall in, we'll all be in trouble."
However, he did let my two sons handle the wheel and, once the wind picked up, after about two hours, showed them how to put up the sails and gave them some elementary sailing lessons. Then he got out the hammock and let everyone take a turn at the good life. Once the sails were up and the motor was turned off, all you could hear was the lapping of the water against the sides of the boat. It was glorious and peaceful. We watched the sun set and stayed out longer than the four hours we had paid for because Dan wanted us to have a full four hours of actual sailing. And during the entire evening, Dan entertained us with his subtle and dry humor, his tall tales, and his completely unflappable and genuinely warm personality.
When it was time to head back, it was getting dark, and Dan told my son Matt to take the wheel. Then Dan proceeded to close his eyes and relax in the hammock. We didn't realize it at first, but he had taken the remote control, and though Matt thought he was guiding the boat back, 'Papa" was actually in Dan's capable hands.
When the evening ended, we thanked Dan and he told us he would keep us on his email list and let us know when he got his new 50 foot sailboat, with which he planned to sail around the world. And we and our sons revisited that day many times, recalling the funny stories Dan told, and the wonderful evening he gave us. One of my sons even decided he wanted to take sailing lessons.
For the next year, true to his word, Dan sent out regular emails to his numerous friends and customers, and we followed his adventures as he indeed did sail around the world. When he returned to the states, we hoped to meet up with him in San Diego, before he headed back up to Seattle. Our schedules didn't allow it, unfortunately, but we hoped we would be able to meet Dan again in Seattle one day.
In October, 2007, Dan's emails stopped. We wondered what happened, but my mother was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after that, and I became overwhelmed with caring for her and my dad (who is also ill) and taking her to all her treatments, lab tests, and transfusions, so we didn't think much about it.
Yesterday, I asked my husband to check Dan's website to see if he could learn anything, and it was then we read that Dan had died in October of 2007 in a kite surfing accident at the age of 46.
We were stunned.
We had only been in Dan's presence for about six hours one evening in the summer of 2006, but his death felt like a huge loss. People like Dan enrich everyone's life and the world is a better place when people with that much vitality and good will are living in it.
Dan would be the first to tell you he wasn't perfect. He had been married and divorced twice because, he said, he didn't make a very good husband. Dan's energy couldn't, it seemed, be contained by a marital relationship, though when we sailed with him he seemed to have fallen in love with a woman who shared his love of sailing and sense of adventure. He loved his siblings and nieces and nephews, but sadly he never had his own family. His family consisted of the thousands of people whose lives he touched in his various careers and hobbies and charitable works.
It doesn't surprise me that Dan died so young. He was a risk taker and sooner or later people like Dan run out of luck. Dan was like a fireworks display that shines brightly for a few minutes and then is gone. You will always remember the beauty and the brightness, but you know it can't last.
I have met a lot of people in my life, and most of them are nice enough, but forgettable. Dan was not one of them. Though I only spent six hours in his presence, I will never, ever forget him or some of the most peaceful and enjoyable hours I have ever spent in my life.
Thank you, Dan, for that night in 2006. Thank you for touching our lives and for the memory that lives on. Thank you on behalf of all the people whose lives you enriched.
All content © 2005 outragedcitizen.com
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